The Very First Christmas Party
by Lokiitama
Summary: Where the Italy brothers are waiting endlessly, again and again for a friend of theirs' who's not coming.


The cold air lashed out, biting and reddening their once warm cheeks as the night hugged them tightly, displaying its beauty. Even if it was freezing out there, they didn't mind since winter just had settled in.

There wasn't any cloud jealously prying the stars away, letting them star-gaze as much as they wished to do so. Shining and tinkling stars were sprawled everywhere, drawing thousands of imagines and character with each other. Even the moon had choose its best dress especially for the night, showing its full face to grant them more light.

What one of them loved the most was that when he breathed in, the cold air contrasted with his body's warmness : it was refreshing. He also loved how his breath floated away when he breathed out, it made sculptures in the air.

On the other hand, what the other one hated the most was to feel any kind of coldness near him - he didn't know _how_ his brother managed to bear that. So when he breathed in, he most likely grunted and swore about the fresh air, and the man was almost lamenting when he saw his breath float away, far, far away from him : his warmness was shamelessly leaving his body, dammit.

Both of them were on a cliff : around that time of the year, they loved to sit there, humming Christmas tones - well it was mostly only one of them humming, the other one only doing so sometimes. The said cliff was pretty dangerous in itself : falling would grant merciless death. But they liked to be here anyway : they could be above the sounds of the city - except the really loud ones - and could be in peace. Usually, on that night, they held hands - in a brotherly way - : a sort of comforting melancholy of a past they just _knew _they had but didn't remember a thing of it. Except for the said feeling.

Sometimes, they pointed a star or two, wondering which one it was and laughed quietly about ideas they shared. Hours passed and their smiles faded to make way for a deep frown. Their stomach slowly knotted themselves painfully as both of the brother constantly passed their tongue on their dried lips, eyes shifting left and right with more and more desperate focus. If they took time to observe themselves, they would see themselves quivering at the same rhythm of their hearts. Where ? "Ve... Fratellone... Where is he ? He should have been here hours ago !" One finally said, voice abnormally high-pitched.

"I know bastard," was his only reply : Romano always had been harsh - at least as far as he could remember - but his brother knew better. He was worried sick, too - maybe even more than him. Veneziano would have smiled in other time, but for now, silence invaded their short conversation. It didn't last : "But what if he didn't like us anymore ? What if he had a problem ? What if he stopped flying ? What if he was really, really, really, really sick and was on the verge of death ? What if he was free-falling to the ground and what if-"

"Urgh ! Will you shut up for God's sake ?! I'm trying to calm down and you're certainly not helping ! Dammit..."

Once again, they gazed in the distance. They suddenly heard a loud 'boom' coming from the town down the cliff. It triggered them : they couldn't take it anymore. Both of them jumped on their feet. So he stopped flying and crashed on the ground ! "Feli ! We have to go help !"

North Italy only nodded as both of them used their infamous 'run away' speed to go to their house to snatch the first aid kit.

The door was almost threw off its hinges when they entered, and their hearts were almost ripped off their ribcage when they were face-to-face to other nations yelling 'Merry Christmas' at them. Both of them screamed, turning around to sprint for their dear lives. It seemed they were out of luck since they collided against two strong chests.

"W-W-Wha... ?" They turned around, shaking like a leaf under a strong wind and saw everyone in their house. They spotted him : a blonde hair and a petite figure standing in front of them all dressed in red and white, a big smile on his face. " Moi moi !"

"V-Ve...F-Finland ! Where were you ?"

"We all were waiting here, Italy. You know that we were getting worried, right ?" A voice with a strong German accent talked. A voice Veneziano knew well : Germany.

"What the hell, you potato-eating bastard ? I don't remember allowing you in our hous-" He was interrupted by a hug-loving cheerful Spaniard who ranted about his worry. North Italy did the same, tackling Finland into a tight embrace and crying his worry out. "We were so worried that you forgot about us, or that you were sick, or that you were dead, or tha-"

"D-Don't worry, okay, Ita-"

"Then we heard an explosion and we thought it was- Ah !" The blond German took him by the collar when he saw the Santa of the nation's face getting blue. "The explosion was me and Spain trying to fire up some fireworks..."

"F-Fireworks ?" Romano said, eying Spain for the first time, before breaking into a mad laugh, pointing his finger toward the man.

"Ja... Well... It... It didn't go as we planned." Veneziano looked at Germany and had the same reaction as his brother : both of the nations had their hair messy and black from the explosion.

Thus began the very first Christmas party at a nation's house.

- FIN


End file.
